MOTHER'S DAY LOSS AND CELEBRATION

The following piece was written for a Mother’s Day storytelling initiative with The Dinner Party. If you are a 20 to 40 something-year-old struggling with the loss of a loved one, I highly encourage you check out their programs and resources.

At our monthly Virtual Dinner Party, partiers who recently lost their mothers and haven’t been confronted with Mother’s Day in this new light, inquired,“What should I do?” Reflecting on personal experience from losing my mother, I realize that Mother's Day is a day I have chosen not to dwell on. Aside from buying flowers or sending cards to other mother-figures in my life, I’m drawing a blank as to how I’ve navigated Mother’s Day the past two years since losing our mom. 

Even before our mom died from frontotemporal dementia, the national holiday felt bizarre. With the reversal of roles—teenage daughter becoming caretaker to her mother—my comfort with using the noun “mother” shifted to the verb “to mother.” What does mothering look like outside a biological or legal connection? How do we love something unconditionally? Where do we find other forms of mothering in our lives? 

The Dead-Parent Club is at the core of Mother’s Day – and we are not alone in the problem of how to celebrate it. Celebrating a lost mother is one of the foundational histories of Mother’s Day, where in 1908 Anna Jarvis held a memorial service for her mother, sparking the boisterous commercial fire we are confronted with every second Sunday in May. Jarvis, who was infuriated by greeting card companies overhauling a holiday meant to celebrate friendship and peace, would later attempt to abolish the holiday she had worked tirelessly to establish. When thinking about Mother’s Day today, as I write this, I think about the mothers who have lost their children at the hands of police, how black mothers are dying at higher rates during and after childbirth, the thousands of migrant children separated from their families, and the millions of mothers facing burnout while working from home during the pandemic. 

The other night at the virtual gathering, our Dinner Party came up with a few ideas  of what to do this Sunday: garden, go on a hike, delete our social media accounts. I imagine all of us in our homes across the country looking like the shrugging emoji – unsure how to address the dilemma of Mother’s Day. So instead, we shifted to sharing photos of the people we’ve lost: A silly dress-up moment, a family vacation we were too young to remember, and our moms' sporting iconic fashions from the 70s. The anxiety of Mother’s Day slowly calmed as we remembered who and where we each came from. 

So this Sunday I am making a new choice. I am celebrating Mother’s Day by remembering who I am. I am the daughter of Mary Susan who taught me to dance through life, and that love is beyond words. I am the granddaughter of Nancy, who taught me to be a life-long learner and take care of the natural world. I am the youngest sister to Sara and Dana, who see all my quirks and talents. I am the aunt to August, a sweet and curious babe. And I am a person  who mothers—cares for, loves unconditionally, and supports—my hopes, dreams, and desires.


Digital Collage Example

Digital Collage Example

Below are a few resources I created to help navigate Mother’s Day – whether you are celebrating being a mom, grieving the loss of your mother-figure, or supporting a loved one on this challenging holiday – and everything in between. These resources can be used for any day of the year – because grief is not something that conveniently pops up at a scheduled time.

The first resource invites you to create a digital collage as a gift or perhaps in honor of a mother figure in your life. As an artist, a professional who works in the social emotional arts field, and an individual who participates in art therapy – I know first hand how art has the ability to heal. Even digitally, you have the ability to create something precious and wonderful to help you celebrate the love you have for folks in your life.

The second resource is a visual tool to show ways in which we can support one another through loss. If you are a grieving person: share these with your people as a reminder that you’d like some support (reminder: it’s okay to ask for help!). For anyone who knows a grieving person: Send the “HUGS 4 U!” graphic as an offering then use the acronym to prompt a conversation. Even as someone who has experienced a very intimate death, addressing grief and loss still feels scary, intimidating, or awkward for me. No one person grieves the same way so these are suggestions as to how you can show up for your loved ones. Who in your life needs some HUGS today?

Honor: Honor the lost person by asking about them and saying their name. The Dinner Party has taught me that so many folks want to keep the memory of their person alive. An easy way to do this is by saying their name and hearing other folks say their name.

Understand: Understand that it can feel awkward to address grief and loss – and that’s okay! While death is the one thing we all have in common, it’s also uncharted territory for many of us. Be brave, be curious, be understanding. Navigate the unknown together.

Go: Go for it! By asking “do you want to talk about your person?” You are crating space for your loved one to say “yes” or “no”. If they do say “no” don’t take that as an ultimatum. Let them know you’re thinking of them and their lost person at another time.

Share: Sharing stories and memories is a beautiful way to start conversations. If you’re under sure where to begin, I welcome you to finish these sentences: “I remember when they…”, “One of my favorite memories of them are…”, “I’ve always admire that they…”.

Resources for Loss and Celebration

  1. Instagram TV Mother’s Day Digital Collage Tutorial on how to use PNG images from my website and the free tools in Canva to create a unique phone screen saver as a personal reflection or gift. 

  2. Downloadable HUGS graphics to share on social media or with a friend! If you share on Instagram please tag me: @JanelleKetcher.